


Hearts Change

by the_gay_sea_witch



Series: An Altmer's Tale [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 23:42:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18398750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_gay_sea_witch/pseuds/the_gay_sea_witch
Summary: After Rixa becomes the Guild Master, Brynjolf decides to keep their relationship professional.





	Hearts Change

It had been sometime since Rixa realized that pining over Brynjolf was a lost cause. Though the man had been a fantastic mentor for the new thief, it had become obvious that she didn't need him anymore, and he knew it. Brynjolf was very focused on business. He wasn't the kind of man to settle down. She would catch him sharing some of his many sexual endeavors with Delvin when she entered the Flagon sometimes, but Rixa knew that she could never let herself become another one of his stories he told over mead. And Rixa knew that because she was the Guild Master, she had made herself untouchable.

It was a heartbreaking conclusion for her to come to, and after everything they went through, she hoped there would be more. But once a thief always a thief, and Rixa was dedicated to stealing her heart back from the rugged Nord.

Rixa decided it was best to leave Riften for a time, hoping it would lessen the ache in her chest. She left Brynjolf in charge, knowing he could take care of things. She thought that maybe she could find Sicarius and travel with him. Rixa loved adventure and thought it could help distract her. She knew that Sicarius' base of operations for now was Whiterun, so she climbed into a carriage and made her way there.

Whiterun was always quiet at night, with everyone asleep or at the Bannered Mare. That's where Rixa decided to go first. The tavern smelt of smoke and ale and was crowded with people laughing and drinking. But among them, Rixa could not find Sicarius. The elf let out a sigh before snatching a bottle of mead and waltzing out.

Rixa drank from the bottle as she walked down the path to Breeze home, the house Sicarius owned. Rixa walked up to the tall, wooden door and turned the cold handle. Sicarius knew no one was stupid enough to steal from him, so his door was never locked. The door opened to reveal a vacant home. The fire that was usually ablaze long gone from lack of care. Rixa guessed he had been gone for a couple days now. The elf set her mead on a nearby table and gathered some logs from the corner and, with a flick of her wrist, a fire was once again cracking in the center of the room. Rixa settled into a chair, mead in hand once more.

"Well," Rixa glanced around the room, eyeing a plate of sweetrolls that looked only a couple days old, "looks like I will be staying here for a while."

Sicarius groaned, favouring his gored arm as Serana held the wooden gates open.

"I still cannot believe you did that." He said, shuffling along the cobblestone.

"It's your own fault." Serana chuckled.

"How is this my fault?" The Nord demanded.

"Every battle we engage in has boundaries. It's like dancing. You don't go in my dance space. I don't go in yours. But no. You just go stumbling into my fireball."

"I hate dancing." Sicarius grumbled.

"And I hate the sun. So can we hurry this along?"

"I swear to Talos...One of these days I'm going to leave you to burn in some sun drenched desert."

"Nah. You won't."

The Nord grinned, knowing she was right. He glanced down the road, Breezehome not far. But...Something was off.

"Wait." He said, putting out his arm to bar her way.

The vampire hissed, pushing it away. "Sicarius I've been awake for three days!"

He sniffed the air, his eyes sweeping over the thatched roofs of Whiterun. His blue gaze settled on his own roof, where a single column of smoke was wafting from the stone chimney.

"Someone is in my house!" He cried, breaking into a run across the cobblestone. Serana followed close behind.

"Let me guess." A guard teased as the duo passed. "Somebody stole your sweetroll."

"They may have." The Nord growled, kicking in his door.

The wood went splintering into the warm room, not phasing the elf who sat before the hearth.

"Hey." Rixa said around a mouthful of food. She washed it down with the last drops of Blackbriar mead, another empty to the pile accumulating at her feet. She waved the bottle around, still chewing furiously. "You're out of mead."

Sicarius stood in the doorway, his eyes surveying the mess the high elf had made. They zeroed in on the plate on the table. The one that was supposed to have his sweetrolls on it. The one that was now clear of any of these precious little buns.

"You ate my sweetrolls?" The Nord asked, dangerously.

"Yes," Rixa responded casually, "they were delicious."

Sicarius took in a long, deep breath through his nose, his ocean blue eyes never leaving her forest green ones. Serana took this moment to intervene.

"Rixa! We did not expect to see you here. What brings you by?" The vampiric temptress asked, stepping in front of Sicarius, acting as a shield to the reckless elf.

The Altmer sighed, looking down at the empty bottles at her feet, wishing she had another right then.

"I needed to get away for a while. From the Guild, from... Brynjolf." Rixa replied quietly.

Sicarius and Serana shared a look. The vampire reached for the Nord's coin purse.

"I will go buy some more mead." She whispered to the warrior. Sicarius nodded to her, looking back to the usually confident elf.

He slowly made his way to the chair across from Rixa, confusion and concern clear on his face.

"What happened with Brynjolf?" He asked after he made himself comfortable.

"Nothing," Rixa laughed dryly, still looking down at her feet, "nothing at all." The Nord's eyebrow rose.

"Then what seems to be the problem?" Sicarius asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"That is the problem!" The elf snapped at him, leaping from her chair, which fell backwards with a clatter. Sicarius was startled by the elf's sudden outburst.

"He won't even speak to me! He always has something better to do! I thought I loved him... but now I'm not so sure." The elf trailed off.

Rixa sank to the floor among all the empty bottles, her energy spent. Sicarius heard a soft sniffle from her shaking form. The mighty warrior pushed himself off his chair and pulled the crying woman towards him, ignoring his injured arm. The elf fell into his armored chest, gripping to the hard surface. Sicarius began to slowly rock back and forth, his hand running soothingly up and down her shaking back.

"I understand what it is like to be ignored by the person you love," Sicarius started, "I am tortured by my dear Serana's presence every day, but if I were to go back to those catacombs with the knowledge I possess now, I would still open her tomb."

Rixa's body had begun to still, her soft sobbing dying down to quiet sniffles. They both sat in silence for a time, neither moving from the cold floor. Finally, Rixa broke the silence.

"I guess we can be heartbroken fools together." She mumbled into his chest plate. Sicarius chuckled, holding Rixa a little tighter.

Serana walked into Breezehome to see the Altmer and Nord like this. The vampire smiled softly at the sight, knowing everything would be alright. With a soft chuckle, the vampire set the mead on the floor next to the door, dropping Sicarius’ coin purse on a table as she strolled up to the bedroom, ready for some much deserved rest.

The next day, Rixa sent a messenger to Riften, informing the Guild that she would be staying in Whiterun for a short time. She went on a few of Sicarius' adventures and got to see firsthand just how gone Sic was on Serana. It would be adorable if not for the fact that it was destroying the poor idiot. The elf was almost certain Sicarius would get himself killed with the extents he went through to keep the lovely vampire from harm.

It was only a month ago that the ragtag group was off collecting this and destroying that. Rixa had gone back to the Guild to a warm welcome from her thieve family; even Vex appeared to have missed her. The night was spent with good company and many, many bottles of mead. And just like that, things were back to normal, or as normal as they can get for the magic wielding Guild Master.

A week later, Sicarius sent word that he was journeying to the College of Winterhold in search of an Elder Scroll and said to meet him there if the Altmer was interested in another adventure. Rixa laughed for a full ten minutes after picturing the Nord even trying to throw a simple fireball, let alone anything more powerful. However, the Guild was in the middle of planning one of their larger heists and she was needed, so she was not able to watch such a hilarious scene play out.

Two months later, Sicarius sent a letter telling Rixa he wanted to meet for drinks at the Bannered Mare the next evening. The warrior said in his letter that he had someone he wanted Rixa to meet. The mage chuckled and was on the carriage for Whiterun five minutes later. During the ride, the elf was curious who exactly this person was.

Rixa stepped into the tavern and easily spotted the muscular Nord in the crowd. She could see that he was talking to someone, but there were too many people to see whoever it was. With a few quick strides, the elf placed herself in front of the table.

“There you are Rixa, we were wondering when you would show up.” The Nord’s booming voice rang through the Mare.

“And here is the person I wanted you to meet. Rixa meet J’zargo.” Sicarius’ waved his large hand to the person sitting across from him.

Rixa turned to look into ice blue cat eyes that, she realized very quickly, she could get lost in. She watched J’zargo’s ears perk in interest as his eyes studied her features. The feline rose to his full height, his robes swishing as he did so. He stood a foot or more shorter than the elf, something she had grown used to over her lifetime. The Khajiit’s grey fur had many darker grey markings running in an intricate pattern across his face, patterns the elf was sure were all across the cat’s body. Rixa caught herself wondering just how soft his fur was. A charming smile spread across the cat’s face, making her wonder if J’zargo could tell what she was thinking. J’zargo held out his paw to the high elf and she rested her smooth hand in his. He brought Rixa’s hand up to his furry lips and kissed it, tickling the back of her hand with his mustache and whiskers. J’zargo lowered her hand but did not let go of it. In fact, it felt like he was holding it a bit tighter than before. The Altmer found the sensation comforting. Finally, the cat spoke, his voice smooth as silk, ringing in her ears.

“Hello Lady Rixa, J’zargo has heard so much about you.”

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY LISTEN! I know in the last couple fics it felt like it was leading up to a Brynolf relationship, but that is not the case. I wrote these years ago and this is just how it went.


End file.
